


still falling by morning

by waterleveldropping



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Marriage, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:01:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterleveldropping/pseuds/waterleveldropping
Summary: a vignette on the first morning after marriage
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	still falling by morning

_And you were sleeping on the floor_  
_Breathing free and even_  
_If I ever want to drive myself insane_  
_All I have to do is watch you breathing_

_-_ The Mountain Goats, "There will be no Divorce"

He misses the slow rocking of the sea. The gentle rise and fall of Elias’s chest as he sleeps next to him is too close to the pattern of waves for Peter to feel anything but contempt for it. There is nothing like the feeling of being alone. There is nothing.

It’s still outside the cabin window. Mist from last night’s storm gathers around his feet when Peter opens the front door so he can have space to breathe for a moment, just a moment, before the pull of the static becomes too strong and he has to step inside again. 

The waves are too far away.

Bouchard sleeps in their too-big marriage bed, peaceful, like he doesn’t control everything and everyone in his life. Just… sleeps like a normal man. Peter is conditioned to wake at sunrise, to stand alone on the deck and gaze over the huge empty ocean, the sight being all he needs. The rest of his crew whose name he doesn’t know or care to learn know better than to speak to him, or rise before he does.

He wishes Elias still being asleep was because he knew better than to get up before Peter, but he knows it’s nothing of the sort. This marriage is a union of their own design and blank agreement, to no one’s fault but their combined own. 

The bed shifts beneath his weight as Peter takes a seat on their bedside, lifts a hand to brush the grey hair from Elias’s face in an act of solemn gentleness. 

The man beside him opens his eyes. Not slowly or blinking through the light of the room, or even suddenly and wide-eyed. Simply… opens them. Peter stalls with his hand above his husband’s forehead. Elias’s eyes flick to it, and he catches Peter’s huge hand by the wrist, holds it for a moment before he intertwines their fingers.

“Could you make breakfast.” Elias’s voice says, even. It is not a question because it does not have the intonation of one. 

Peter stares at their connected hands. “Alright.” he replies, despite himself. He does not move to stand. 

Elias leans forward gradually and presses his lips to the ring on Peter’s hand in a kiss, his warm breath against Peter’s rough skin is not an unwelcome juxtaposition to the salt of the cold sea, in spite of how much Peter wants it to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> just a little experiment on my part. this song shuffled on as i was working on a different fic and it hit me so suddenly that i paused for a few minutes to write a lonelyeyes piece for it. 
> 
> the last few songs off the coroner's gambit album remind me a lot of these two
> 
> thank you for reading.


End file.
